Carl Clover had worked on a Wyoming ranch for most of his life. His father did and his grandfather did, also. They all worked on the Double R ranch. The ranch was owned and operated by a family named Ranger. Rick Ranger currently ran the ranch that dealt with cattle and horses. Ranch life was the only life that Carl had ever known and he loved it. It was in his blood, just as sure as the wind blew. Constant and quiet, Carl was dependable. He loved horses. That was his area and he was at home around horses, one and all. The horses seemed to talk to him and he listened. They seemed to listen to him, too.
The Double R ranch was having a horse problem. Well, more like a colt problem. There was this colt and noone seemed to be able to deal with him. He was restless and he acted as wild as the wild horses that used to run free on the western plains. The colt did not like anyone coming near him. And when they did, he would kick. He had quite a powerful kick and most of the Double R ranchers had learned to steer clear of him. All seemed to have given up even attempting to tame him. Rick mentioned to Carl that he was considering selling him if he could not tame him. Carl asked if he could have a go at it. Rick agreed and wished him luck. “You are gonna need it, Carl!” Rick said. Carl laughed.
Carl entered the ring were the unruly colt was being kept during the day. The colt eyed him, snorting and pawing the ground like a bull about to charge. Carl laughed. He spoke softly to the colt, telling him not to be scared. This colt was a beauty, red and brightly colored, reminding Carl of the color of rust. The colt snorted at Carl again, bad tempered like and then turned and flung out a powerful back hoof in his direction. Then, the colt did a picture perfect bronco high kick at Carl with both back legs. Carl was trying not hard to laugh. He pulled a few sugar cubes from his pocket and approached the colt slowly. “Easy, boy” Carl whispered. The colt stood still. As Carl reached him, the colt whipped around and a back hoof connected with Carl’s head. Carl landed on the ground and was out cold for a few minutes. When he came to, Rick was leaning over him asking if he was alright. Carl sighed. Deeply. He said “Yep.” Rick laughed. Carl said “That colt sure can kick!” and Rick agreed.
Carl told Rick, “That colt has got to have a name and since he does it so doggone well, let’s name him Kick.” Rick cracked up and he agreed that the colt did indeed have a mighty kick. “That is perfect, Carl.” Rick said. Carl asked Rick to clear out. Kick and Carl had some issues to work out. As Carl once again slowly approached Kick, he was ready. Kick went to lift his back leg and Carl grabbed it and held on for dear life. Kick hit the dirt and was thrashing around on the ground for quite a while. Carl held on like a bulldog. Kick finally tired and when he did, Carl reached in his pocket and got out another sugar cube. He forced it in Kick’s mouth and clamped his hands around Kick’s mouth. Kick got his first sugar cube treat and he went still. Then he went to chewing and swallowed. Kick had been bribed and it seemed to be working. He slowly got up. Carl got up with him and kept a tight death grip on Kick’s mane. Kick looked at Carl, interested and Carl held out another sugar cube. Kick nibbled at it and took the treat. Carl fed him several more sugar cubes and then managed to lead him to a stall, feeding him sugar cubes all the way.
Cowboys, ranchers and all of the help at the Double R ranch cheered! After Carl settled Kick down in his stall for the night, he came out of the horse barn. Rick slapped him on the back and said “Well done, cowboy!” Carl laughed. He said “Shoot, that colt just needed something sweet to show him how to be that way.” All agreed.
